


Snowmen In February

by Kanra_chan



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Angst, Fluff apparently, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Open to Interpretation, Pain, Pre-Slash, Snow, You Decide, also, bitter humor, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 04:30:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13628619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kanra_chan/pseuds/Kanra_chan
Summary: Shizuo finds Izaya, sitting alone in an alleyway, and has a very bad feeling about it.





	Snowmen In February

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Camorra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camorra/gifts).



> For Camorra (and their beta, who sounds pretty cool also) because I really really love your stories and hope to see a lot more from you. I tried to make them slightly more sarcastic than I usually do, in your honor lol

Where do fleas hide? On dogs, they’re known to frequent the thick fur around the neck the most. But if you have a careful eye, you can part the fur anywhere and have a decent chance at finding one hiding. They’re fast, hard to catch let alone crush, and they don’t give up.

If you think about it, calling Izaya a flea was sort of like a compliment.

“Why are you laying there?” Shizuo shifts his weight, staring ahead at his persistent flea. Izaya is lying against an alley wall, sitting up but looking paler than usual. It was probably the moonlight and the snow, playing tricks.

“None of Shizu-chan’s business,” is his reply, a calm smirk gracing his face. He’s got his jacket wrapped tight around him, unusual for him but not enough to question it due to the icy flakes falling around them. They’re melting in Izaya’s hair and clothes, dampening him slowly.

He doesn’t seem to mind.

“Fine. I don’t care.” He itches for a smoke, something to soothe the strange anticipation curling in his stomach.

“Then why ask?” Izaya laughs a little, quietly in the space between them. The feeling worsens.

“Hurry up and leave Ikebukuro.” He takes a few steps forward, until Izaya puts his hand out. Human instinct and knowledge of signals being taught to him and everyone else since birth has his forward movement halting, recognizing the silent request of Stop, stay there.

“Haha… Isn’t that the opposite of what you want?” He looks at Shizuo knowingly. “You were the one who invited me on all those dates, right?”

“You made it clear you weren’t interested, so nothing’s changed. Get out.”

“Ah, of course. I’ll leave soon.”

“Leave now.” Shizuo scowls, watching Izaya make no move to get up. If anything, he’s relaxed further, slumping a bit down the wall and looking uncomfortable. The way his head’s bent, the discomfort isn’t surprising.

“I’ll leave once Shizu-chan does.” That’s odd, isn’t it? He should be running away and laughing by now.

“I’m going to make you leave,” He growls, summoning up any scraps of anger he can. He steps forward again, ready to haul Izaya out of this dingy little alley and out into the snow covered road.  
“Wait.” He holds up both hands this time, and Shizuo is again compelled to stop. “I’ll do it.”

“...Do what?”

“A date, stupid, I’ll go on a date with you if you turn around and leave,” he sighs, letting his eyes close like he’s about to fall asleep. His stomach is squirming like something is alive in there, desperately trying to escape.

“Why would you do that,” he demands, walking towards him again and not stopping this time until he’s close enough to crouch in front of Izaya. This close he can see how pale the young man is, dark hair shadowing dark eyes and lips pursed in pain. Izaya doesn’t answer.

“You rejected me. You hate me. You ripped those flowers to shreds and laughed in my face.” His voice carries a deep growl, bitter and angry. He still remembers the angry, almost hurt way Izaya broke the stalks and tore the petals, throwing them at his feet when Shizuo had tried to protest. “I paid $!5 for those by the way, asshole.”

“Can’t a guy change his mind?” Izaya pulls his jacket tighter, eyelashes flickering like he almost looks down but stops himself. Shizuo doesn’t look down, stomach pulling and a tangy metal smell thick in the air. He suspects it’s coming from Izaya, and hopes he’s wrong.

“Not you.”

“So-o mean,” Izaya laughs, and doesn’t realize his mistake when he flashes his bloodstained teeth at Shizuo. “Maybe I just decided you were too handsome to resist? Or perhaps you won me over with your massive library and mysterious charms? Oh wait, that was Beauty and the Beast. My bad,” he laughs again.

“It fits,” He sighs, visibly irritating Izaya when he doesn’t react negatively. “You’re beautiful.”

“You’re disgusting.” He looks away from Shizuo, glaring at the snow. “I hate you.”

“I know. That’s why you want me to leave.” He reaches forward, brushing Izaya’s hand away and peeling his jacket aside to reveal blood seeping through his dark t-shirt. If he squints, he can see a hole in the thread and in his skin.”You’d rather die here than let me help you.”

“There’s more to it than that, Shizu-chan! You see, I-”

“I’m sure there is. You can explain it later.” He rips his sleeve off, a fairly clean tear from the looks of it, and folds it neatly. He then rips the other one off, places the folded piece against the bullet wound, and wraps the second sleeve around Izaya’s waist and ties it tight. Thankfully, Izaya’s slim enough for this to work. “How are you conscious? I heard you passed out like two seconds after you were stabbed.”

“Shinra should learn to keep his mouth shut,” Izaya grunts, his pain starting to show more now.  
“Well?” He turns around, still crouched, and reaches back to tug on one of Izaya’s arms. The informant falls forward, against his back, and reluctantly wraps his arms around Shizuo’s neck. He pulls Izaya’s legs through his bare arms, bowed at his sides, and stands up. Carefully, he starts their trek to Shinra’s. “Keep pressure on that, if you can.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Izaya presses against him more, though, obligingly. He squirms a little, no doubt smearing blood on his clothes just to be an ass.

Whatever, this shirt was ruined anyway.

“It’s not like you’ve been shot before,” He reminds him, trying to walk both quickly and carefully. They’re less than a mile away, Izaya had likely been on his way there anyway, but it feels like ten.

“...I wanted to watch the snow.”

“What?”

“The snow,” He huffs against Shizuo’s shoulder, breath curling visibly in the winter air. “ I stayed awake because I wanted to watch it. Do try to keep up, Shizu-chan.”

“I could drop you,” he warns, aware Izaya knows that the threat is empty. “...Why did you want to watch the snow?” Izaya doesn’t answer for a few moments, breath labored and chest shuddering against his back on every freezing inhale.

“I was waiting for it to pile up enough so I could make a little snowman.” He gets tense for a moment, like he’s considering something worrying. “I planned to smear it with blood by writing the name of my killer on it. Then people would know.”

“What if it snowed so much it was covered up? Or it got warm before you were found, and melted? Or they came back, saw the snowman, and kicked it down? Really, that’s not a very good plan, Izaya-kun, even I can tell. What’s the real reason?” Half a mile away now. His shirt was soaked, probably the back of his pants too. Great.

“Oh, you’re so right.” His voice is growing weaker and weaker, huffs of breath coming harder on effort. Shizuo wonders if keeping him conscious and talking is smart, and realizes he’s not sure. “I should have used some of the pen and paper I had on me. Maybe lit up the bat signal I carry around with me. Or I suppose I could have just pulled down my pants and pissed out their name in the snow! Do you think they’d take pictures and call it evidence? Maybe take samples-”

“Okay! Okay, I get it,” he growls, hiking Izaya up a litter higher from where he’s starting to slip. Only a few blocks away now. “You’re such a dick. Do you even care that you’re half dead and bleeding out right now?”

They fall into near silence, the crunch of snow beneath Shizuo’s boots being the only sound. He thinks if this were a movie there would be a very faint piano melody playing. He wonders if this counts as romantic, letting Izaya bleed all over him while he rescues his smarmy ass, and decides that since he did technically leave the alleyway that he’ll hold Izaya to that date.

“I didn’ wanna be alone,” Izaya slurs, a few feet away from Shinra’s apartment. “I was going to make the snowman so I didn’t die alone.”

They don’t speak after that, when Izaya falls into unconsciousness and he practically runs up to Shinra’s place. Outside, the snow keeps falling well into the night. It covers Ikebukuro in a beautiful white blanket, shimmering in the moonlight like something off a Christmas card. They get a few good inches, at least.

Enough to make a little snowman.


End file.
